


Rinse and Repeat

by CozyCryptidCorner



Series: Agony [1]
Category: Original Work, exophilia - Fandom
Genre: Angst and Porn, Demon, F/M, Oral Sex, Porn... With a Bit of Plot?, female insert - Freeform, incubus, penetration sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 13:40:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18262430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CozyCryptidCorner/pseuds/CozyCryptidCorner
Summary: You promised yourself that the last time was thelast time.But then again, you always were a bit of a liar.





	Rinse and Repeat

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s a little angsty fic! It’s a little shorter than what I usually write, but I’m in the middle of a bigger project (a surprise!) so this will have to do for now.

It has gotten easier to summon him, the knife dragging across your fingertips without a bit of hesitation, the incantation falling without a single mispronunciation on your lips, and the herbs you burn are so familiar at this point that you barely notice their pungent smell. The meticulously placed crystals around the painted circle begin to rattle ominously as they start to absorb the dark energy radiating into the room, as a door opens to a place of unimaginable horrors. Out of it comes something large and beautiful, dangerous and deadly, a lithe creature bred for lust and sex.

 

The portal slams shut, leaving you alone in the dark with the tall, imposing figure. His blue skin is dark enough to be almost black, chest and shoulders glistening with sweet-smelling oils, a clean-shaven face and… equator. Dark black hair parts oddly on the top of his head, making way for the wickedly sharp horns, each pointing up with the slightest curve of the center. A cloven hoof steps forward, the sound of it against the wooden floor like a morning alarm to your lethargic observations.

 

“Again?” He asks softly, somehow not sounding judgemental in the slightest.

 

You don’t answer, wrapping your arms around your chest as though you can protect yourself from your own emotions.

 

“My sweet dove.” He comes closer, placing a hand on the side of your face, thumb stroking away the tears that spill from your traitorous eyes. When he kisses you, it’s like a heroin hit, instantaneous relief filling your veins and sending you to a high. Shivers run through your muscles as his tongue brushes across your lips, the kiss deepening, his hands coming to grip your almost-bare hips like you are his lifeline.

 

Perhaps it is bad form to summon a creature of darkness while wearing just a shirt and underwear, but after the awkward times you have had to peel a pair of jeans off your legs, you’ve given up on maintaining a particular appearance. After all, what’s he here for? Not tea and biscuits, unless that’s some sort of euphemism for sex.

 

The wall is blissfully cool against your back, a beacon of relief against the heat of your body. The demon’s mouth presses against your neck, hot, needy, kissing up from your shoulder to your jawline. He takes your earlobe into his mouth and sucks, the tender flesh brushing up against his fangs, sending delightful sparks of pleasure running down your spine. One of his hands has your arm pinned over your head, the snaking under the hem of your shirt to massage your breast. None of his actions are rough, but they are calculated. Nothing an incubus does is out of passion, and though he is very good at mimicking human needs, you know he is only doing this out of necessity for survival.

 

You pull at your shirt with one hand, and he quickly helps you remove it. The bra around your chest follows just as effortlessly, his fingers unclasping the back, pulling it free and tossing it away with the practice of a well-seasoned sex monger. His kisses trail from your throat to the center of your collarbone, forked tongue lashing out at your skin for a taste. Those perfectly sculpted fingers cup at your breasts, palming them slowly as he slowly maps your stomach with kisses, and a long tail comes to wrap around your bare leg. Already you can feel dampness forming between your thighs, and it doesn’t help that he pauses to the left of your pelvis to suck a purple hickey into your flesh.

 

There is no time to waste and no need for foreplay when one of the party is already dripping with need. His breath easily warms the thin fabric of your underwear as he looks up at you, eyes filled with the need to please you. He kisses the cotton, once, then bites at the waistband, using his hands to help drag it down with his mouth. After you step out of the underwear, he lifts one of your legs up, setting it up over his shoulder, focus shifting to the pussy that quivers for his tongue.

 

He starts with kisses, one on your inner thigh, one just above your slit, then one right over your clit. Out flicks his tongue, tasting a bit of your arousal, like a wine connoisseur deciding if a particular bottle is worth its price. An open mouth closes around your clit, suckling loudly, each movement of his tongue sending shockwaves through your body. After a moment of torture, he releases your clit, stretching open your lips to better access the liquid dripping from your body. He licks almost frantically, like a dog, a strange desperation to drink your nectar becoming his sole purpose

 

An animalistic urge overtakes him, his tongue caressing over your puckered flesh as though letting a drop of your arousal to waste will kill him, black and gray eyes glazed over in fervor. A minute of this building pleasure passes before you realize that he’s holding your hand, knuckles of his fingers paling from the tightness of his grip. His head bobs as he continues, moving up, down, tongue abnormally dexterous and strong, flicking this way and that against your clit. Something inside your core builds up, hot and ready, an edge fast approaching.

 

“Stop.” You close your eyes, you don’t want to look at his face as you push him away, untangling your leg from his shoulder.

 

A strangled growl comes from his throat in response, though he does not try to force himself back beneath you.

 

After a shuddering breath, you open your eyes again, looking at the betrayal on his face, etching it into memory. “I just…” you don’t know how to say it. “I need you inside me.”

 

Mouth still glistening with your arousal, the incubus stands, eyeing you carefully, as though expecting you to push him back away the moment he gets too close. Before he kisses you, he licks all around his mouth, trying to swallow the last bit of your nectar like a starving man. As he presses his lips against yours, you taste yourself on his mouth, a shiver of thrill running through you at the thought. You quickly angle one of your legs up to his hips to give him easy access.

 

His cock is thick, veins rippling through the skin, the slit already dripping an odd-colored liquid as he rubs his hand over it, offering a show of sorts before sliding it through your lips. As though to torture you passive-aggressively for stopping his feast, he doesn’t push into your folds, not yet. The head rubs against your clit, bringing another round of heated sparks weaving through your core. Only at the sound of your soft moan does he slip the tip inside, just the smallest bit, your core tensing upon contact. It takes an almost frustratingly long time for him to sheath his cock inside you, his movements slow, careful, almost gentle, your body needing a couple of moments to adjust to his size.

 

You wrap your other leg around his waist, the fullness of his cock inside your body almost overwhelming your senses. Tears threaten your eyes once again, a choking gasp all you can manage as he thrusts, once, just to see how your body handles it. Satisfied, he begins to move, slowly at first, the thick rod massaging your inner walls so perfectly you want to scream. Your nails dig into his back, and since he never minds when you draw blood, you don’t try to restrain your grip.

 

At the feeling of pain, he gives a pleased grunt, picking up his pace, your back pressed up roughly against the wall. He buries his face in your neck, sucking at your skin, too sloppy and distracted to put any effort into making another hickey. The nips he gives instead are gentle, playful, bordering on the thin line between pleasure and pain as his cock continues to thrust, pelvis moving almost roughly as though he is losing control.

 

You are so close, so, so close, and by the rough breathing of the incubus, he is, too. He presses a gentle kiss against your earlobe, breathing out words almost too quiet for you to hear.

 

And you stop.

 

You push him off of you roughly and without mercy, pinching your arm to keep from melting into sobs.  _He doesn’t mean it, he doesn’t mean it, he doesn’t mean it,_  you chant inside your head over and over again as though thinking it repeatedly will help you believe it. You need a moment to find your voice, chest heaving, crushing loneliness giving into rage. With a shaking finger, you point back at the circle. “Get away from me.”

 

The incubus stares at you, mouth quivering, fingers fidgeting against each other. “At least- at least let me finish you off.”

 

That’s the thing about  _Merikh,_  his little gag to keep people coming back to him. He makes you feel so  _special_  with all those little, subtle gestures, like the hand holding, the gentle kisses, and now, apparently, stooping as low as whispering  _I love you_  while he holds your body against his. Anyone could easily fall into the cycle of believing that he genuinely cares, and you wouldn’t blame them. But he doesn’t love anyone, that’s just his  _nature,_  and you need to remind yourself of that every time he leaves. This is all a ploy to get what he wants, you are just a meal to him, and the moment you stop being beneficial, he will stop returning.

 

Just like everyone else.

 

 _”No.”_  You fold your arms over your chest, turning away so you don’t have to look at his broken eyes. “Get out. Now.”

 

You hear him obey the order, each sound of clopping steps like a stab through your heart. Before he opens his portal, purely on habit by this point, you make sure to say, “this is the last time.”

 

A silent pause. “Of course,” Merikh says in response, not even mustering the energy to act like he believes you.

 

And then he leaves.

 

And you fall apart.

 

_Again._

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure the person who requested an incubus didn't have this in mind but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ don't ask me to do anything unless you want angst because buddy, pal, this shit is my bread and butter. 
> 
>  
> 
> [Here's a quick doodle of him.](https://cozycryptidcorner.tumblr.com/post/183784444034/lovestruck-demon-merikh)
> 
>  
> 
> *Youtuber voice* If you liked what you read, smash that kudos button! Want to tell me how much you liked this fic? Leave me a comment! Want to keep tabs on my writings? Subscribe and you get a free (yes, FREE) email every time I publish a fic! Want me to write more? Shower me with praise because positive reinforcement motivates me to work!


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